


Why do I love you?

by beespiesandplaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Lie Low At Lupin's, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-22 08:59:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7428430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/pseuds/beespiesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving Sirius Black isn't easy - he's impulsive, reckless, rebellious (gorgeous) - but somehow Remus Lupin manages it. Even after thirteen years apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why do I love you?

“Why do I love you?” Remus says in despair, as he looks at the very wet dog sitting on his front step. Opening the door, he steps aside. Sirius pads in and transforms, standing dripping on the welcome mat.

“Because I’m gorgeous,” he says, grinning.

“Reckless. You need to be more careful.”

Sirius waves an elegant hand. “It’s fine. I was very subtle. I didn’t sniff any butts.”

Remus sighs. “It’s not a joke. If you get caught… well, you aren’t supposed to go out, really.”

“Bloody hell, Moony, give me a break. As if you could live with being shut in all day, every day.”

“If it was for my own safety, and the safety or my friends, I could. Quite easily. Because I’m not stupid and reckless and selfish,” he snaps, and he didn’t mean to snap – he wasn’t really angry at _Sirius,_ he was angry at everything else – the prophet, with it’s lies, and Dumbledore with his vague instructions (“go and lie low at Lupin’s for awhile” – great idea, because Lupin has a safe house with loads of wards in a remote location and Lupin can fight of Voldemort AND the entire wizarding world simultaneously and Lupin isn’t at all emotionally compromised and Lupin isn’t an incredibly poor werewolf.)

He walks into the kitchen, and he knows he should say sorry, but he also knows that if he turns around he will see Sirius’ face, crestfallen, and the sadness will make the shadows under his eyes that much darker, and it will make his cheeks that much hollower, and the past fourteen years will be etched onto him and he can’t see that.

“Moony,” Sirius pleads, and his heart twists, because he isn’t Moony any more, he hasn’t been Moony for such a long time, he has been Remus Lupin, and he has been so alone.

“It’s Remus.”

“Don’t be daft. You’ll always be Moony to me.”

And that’s why he loves him, because he knows the real version of him, because he carries the memory of Moony, the boy who dreamt of bookshops and writing, the boy who let Sirius join his freckles with ink, the boy who winter and the boy who slept for the whole night without his hand clenched around his wand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. It comes out all hoarse, thirteen years of guilt squashed into one tiny word.

Sirius comes into the kitchen. He’ll be dripping water all over the floor. Remus turns to face him, and he is there – he’s always there, if he can be, unconditionally.

“Moony,” he murmurs; his voice is the same, even if his face is creased with lines too young. Remus’ face is lined too. He leans in, and Remus remembers the first time, a clumsy kiss against a tree in Hogsmeade, cold fingers and the sweet taste of butterbeer, and he loves him for that first gentle meeting of lips, and he loves him for this kiss now, soft and full of emotion.

The kiss is forgiveness and acceptance and home and everything that has been missing for all this time and he’s sorry Sirius went out but he’s not sorry he came back because he wants a thousand quiet reunions.

“I love you,” he breathes. “I love you, and I’m so sorry, Sirius, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Ssshhh. It’s not your fault. Moony, Moony, my darling moony – it’s not your fault.”

Tears blur his vision, because he’s never really believed that; he’s always felt that he somehow should have known, should have done more – should have saved them. His friends are dead and his boyfriend spent thirteen years in prison for his murder and he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it and he feels old but he never grew old and _they are still fighting._

“Sorry,” he murmurs, for the tears this time.

“S’ok,” Sirius says, a smile in his voice, “I’m wet anyway.”

“You’re dripping all over my floor.”

“Come to the shower then. I’m cold.”

Can he have this? Can he have this intimacy back, after so long? Can they really slip back into their old selves so easily?

He looks at Sirius, and it’s the same wild hair, the same grey eyes, the same quirked lip, the same faded t-shirt and bare feet and slim fingers.

It doesn’t really matter what happens, he thinks. They will always be Moony and Padfoot, and they will always have each other, and he will always love the way Sirius hair curls at the nape of his neck. Time and wars can’t change that.

He takes Sirius hand. “I know exactly why I love you,” he says, running his finger over the bump on Sirius’ ring finger, a memento from a break that never healed right.

“And why is that?” Sirius says, pulling him towards the shower.

“Because you are you.”

“That’s a crap reason, Moons.”

Remus just laughs and grins at him, because it would take far too many words to list every reason why he loves Sirius. He runs through a few in his mind though; his eyes, his laugh, the way he makes tea in the morning, the way he always uses a bookmark and the way he shouts at Remus for dog-earing the pages, the freckle beside his left nipple and the scar above his eyebrow, the way he holds Remus close as they kiss, the way his hands roam, reverent, the way he says his name like a prayer and a curse, the way…

Sirius stops his thoughts with a kiss.


End file.
